(I’ve just realised I’ve passed the 300th anniversary of the PoD holy (lol, holy) crap!)
tbh, im not that happy with this bit and may yet re-write it, but here it is
Excerpts from
The Journals of Somerild Rite.
Translated from the old English by Edwin Sulis
As available from the Global Free Media Foundation
Saint Aidan’s Day
The book of Proverbs states that the Lord hates pride so I pray he may forgive me for today my heart swells at what I have seen today. Today we celebrated Saint Aidan’s day, the feast of the blessed Apostle of the Anglish and along with the King-Saints Oswald and Oswine. the father of our church. Indeed another sin was commited, that of thievery but given from whom it was I hope we can be forgiven. Last night under cover of cloud and night several Wolf packs grouped together and attacked a viking camp near a crossing of the Isk (1) and took their food and supplies. We found much more than the two dozen or so men at the camp needed so I believe (And hope) this was destined for the main army which is camped a day or so south of us. Perhaps this makes up for the sin of theft we have committed for t was first destined for Norse Pagans and secondly most likely taken from West Saxon Christians to begin with.
We celebrated, some more than others. I simply enjoyed my meal and lead our group in prayers. With all that has gone on this last year I must not forget I am still a sinner and a penitent and though I hope my deeds in defending Britain begin to make up for my crimes I am by no means done. Only the lord or my mother church may forgive me. Indeed, in fighting this war I have killed and in doing so broken another commandment and been wrathful. Though this wrath was aimed at enemies of the church. Perhaps now is not the time to dwell on things for I know before my time of penance is served I will commit them again.
Despite my misgivings and thoughts on my soul we celebrated saint Aidan’s feast and it was pleasing (and as i said before, prideful) to see such happiness on the faces of our gathered groups. I have not seen such happiness on their faces since before we came across what the Norsemen had done to the monastery at Sulis or perhaps even before the death of Cynewulf. So I hope the lord can forgive our pride for in celebrating we make ourselves better prepared in spirit to defend our Christian nations.
The Monday after Saint Aidans Day
We were taken by surprise today. We were lucky no one was attacked but after tracking the heathen army down the Isk towards Buckfast we found them turning and marching towards us! We scattered our forces and made cover as they past, knowing to face them head on would be suicide. Unsure of whether to pursuit them we instead traveled south to Buckfast, being a town around the abbey, seeking water and perhaps hoping to help the most likely ravaged town. Instead we found it intact or though in possession of a sizable army of West Saxons.
Being apparently the leader of a sizable army, and apparently with a reputation travelling in advance of the rest of me, I was taken before the new West Saxon King who introduced himself as Cuthred, nephew of the late Cynewulf. Having met his uncle a few months earlier I found that Cuthred gave the impression of a boy dressed as a king like a child with a stick plays at being a swordsman. As I was introduced he had an expression of pride and confidence on his face. “So you are the famous Wolf Sister!?” he said with mock incredulity.
“I have been called that, though I do not use that name,” I replied flatly. Before I have finished he continued “Well you and your pack,” mockery on this last word, “Are not needed here!”
“I see no evidence of your army being victorious, but you and your opponents seem unscathed,” he chuckled at this
“Exactly, No bloodshed, no one losing their life, especially not the king! Perhaps if my uncle had done this both he, my father and my cousin might still be walking around!”
“Done what?” I asked patiently,
“These Norsemen, they only come here for money and gold”
“Is that why they have placed a new king in Canterbury?” I interjected.
“Its is why they come to Wessex, and why they have left” he smiled “I gave them money and they left,”
“They left?” I inquired
“Exactly, they are leaving Wessex, trade will open up along the rivers and roads,”
“And they will return to Sussex, where they can ravage those lands,”
“That’s not my problem,”
“I may be a distant northerner but from what my friends have told me the King of Sussex, may god rest his soul, was sworn to your uncle,”
“And now he is dead!” he snapped “Both of them,”
“So the heathen army is unscathed, may travel north into Mercia,”
“Well then he’s your boy-king Aethelred’s problem, not mine, Anglishwoman” he said, this last word as a curse
“And I pray it does not come to this, but should Angland fail to stop Sveyn, what is to stop them returning for more?” he hesitated,
“We’ll give them more, and keep the peace!”
“And more? And more?” I replied, “until your fields are barren and your money's all gone,” he paused and So I left, not just the king but Buckfast, We gained a few new men, disgusted with their king or wanting revenge. Some I suggested head to Sulis or other towns ravage. I considered leaving the “Packs” and travelling to Sulis or to Glastonbury but I knew I was not welcome in any monastery or town around it (Indeed I had felt at ease even in the town of Buckfast) I was a killer, a committer of wrath, I was damned already and my soul tainted. So I would put this to a good use.
- River Exe